


Whiskey Kisses

by PickledTeeth



Category: Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Fishing, Hunting, Kissing, M/M, No Period Typical Homophobia, it was all a ruse, or should be hunting, that shit sucks, they don't do that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 19:45:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickledTeeth/pseuds/PickledTeeth
Summary: Kieran took the flower gently, a bolt of electricity shooting up his arm when their hands touched briefly. Kieran wanted to stay like that, their fingers brushed against each other with a feather-light touch. He wanted to gaze at Arthur's own blue-green eyes. He waited for the man to pull away first. He never did.





	Whiskey Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 1:30am  
> So it's not gonna be good but here we go!

Never in a million years did Kieran think Arthur was going to ever take him hunting. Kieran wasn't good with a gun; common knowledge and a running joke amongst the camp. 

_Look at me I'm Kieran!_

_I woulda never guessed you'd be as bad as Kieran with a gun._

So, when Arthur meandered up him, cigar hanging between his chapped lips, fingers taking it away as he asked Kieran gruffly if he wanted to go hunting, he was more than surprised. 

Arthur had waited, patiently, a blush dusting his cheek as he shifted from foot to foot, either from embarrassment or growing impatience. 

Kieran had set the saddle he'd been scrubbing clean down and got up. Arthur'd watched him with a critical eye, almost a scanning eye. 

"Sure. I-I'll come." The stutter escaped before Kieran could stop himself, a nervous tick if you will. 

Arthur's stance relaxed, eyes going from hard jewels to soft clouds in a manner of seconds. They had walked, side-by-side, towards their horses. Again, Kieran was surprised to see Branwen saddled up, ready to go with a hunting rifle sitting in its scabbard. 

And off they went, galloping towards a field dotted with flowers and buzzing bees and butterflies with dazzling wings. Now, Kieran sat in the long grass, waiting with Arthur for some poor deer to wander past. 

It was an awkward silence, uncomfortable, unwanted, and Kieran felt the need to break it. 

But with what? 

He wasn't good at conversations. Everyone knew. Kieran kept to himself, didn't talk to anybody, didn't want no part in anything. Though he longed to be in amongst the camp residents, sitting around the fire and passing around whiskey bottles. Loneliness was only acceptable for a certain while before it became unbearable, a burden, something you wanted to get rid of. 

Mary-Beth had talked to him before a few times, asking about his time with the O'Driscolls. Kieran knew she fancied him with the way she wandered over to sit next to him at the scout campfire. Too bad Kieran didn't return the feelings. He already had his eyes set on a certain cowboy, whom of which was sitting right beside him, cleaning his rifle with a spotted rag. 

Kieran had absolutely no idea why. Completely unprovoked. 

Maybe it was his personality, gruff, rough around the edges, but soft and sweet underneath. Kieran had observed his behaviour ever since he was dragged into Colter with threats stabbing his ears. The way Arthur was around Jack and a few members of the camp, how he made them happy, made them laugh until they clutched their stomach with tears dotting their eyes. How he comforted them when something went sour, how his voice and his face softened whenever Jack asked him to play. 

Every time Kieran saw Arthur interacting with the older camp members, Tilly, Sean, John, his brain replaced the person with himself in that scenario, talking with Arthur like they were good friends and not sworn enemies. 

"Real quiet there." Arthur piped up suddenly. He took aim with the rifle, rag forgotten beside him, pressing the butt-end into his shoulder as he peeped through the scope. Kieran was snapped from his thoughts, and he cleared his throat. 

"Just thinkin." He replied. Really, he was. It was partially the truth, partially not. 

"Oh yeah?" Arthur quipped, taking the rifle down and laying it on his lap, "Thinkin about what?" 

"...Stuff." 

 _Real smooth. How could anyone know that I, Kieran Duffy, am an amazing liar? I'm so fucking believable,_ Kieran thought bitterly, watching Arthur's face twist into suspicion. 

Eyebrows furrowed, jaw set, eyes hard, he made eye-contact with Kieran, and Kieran shifted. He was pinned under his gaze like a trapped animal. Kieran swallowed.

Maybe this was a trap. Maybe Kieran's judgement was too clouded by his emotions.

"Oh you know..." Kieran started before Arthur could open his mouth. His gaze wandered for something to say before they rested on the backs of their horses, who were grazing a few feet away, "H-Horses." 

Arthur's eyebrow arched. 

"Really?" Arthur drawled, lips curving into a small smirk. 

That was better than the scowl painted across his face just moments ago. 

Kieran relaxed, laughing nervously, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. He didn't realize Arthur had watched him do it intently. 

"Yep. Ol' Branwen here he's...uh...needin some...new shoes?" Kieran didn't mean to sound so unsure, so awkward and plainly lying.

And he was pretty sure Arthur remembered helping Kieran change Branwen's old shoes the other day.

Either Arthur didn't care, or he wasn't really listening all that well (Kieran didn't know which one he preferred. Both stung) as Arthur chuckled and scratched his stubbled chin. 

"New shoes huh? Got some back at camp if you need 'em." 

"Th-thanks Arthur." Kieran flashed a smile, relief flooding his entire body. 

Arthur's cheeks went rosy again. He coughed, lthe brim of his hat covering his eyes. They both looked away, becoming increasingly interested in the blades of grass tickling at their arms. Kieran plucked a daisy from the ground and began relieving it of its petals. 

 _A distraction_ , Kieran thought, picking off the third petal and watching it float to the ground. 

"It's nothin. Got a buncha shoes kickin around anyway." Arthur mumbled. The grip on his rifle tightened, the Leather creaking under the pressure of his fingers. Kieran saw Arthur turn back to him out of the corner of his eye. 

"That daisy'd look nice on you." 

Kieran stilled, and he was pretty sure his face was on fire because boy did it feel like it. The daisy shook in his grasp, a ruby red petal stuck between his pinched fingers, paused in air. 

Arthur watched, examining his face, his body language. Kieran shook his head to snap himself out of his stupor. 

He looked down to the daisy, only sporting two red petals, and he found himself smiling. 

"You think so?" Kieran replied, voice wavering on nerves and anxiety. 

Arthur reached down beside him, coming back around with a bigger daisy, all of its snowy white petals gleaming in the sun. Arthur handed it to him. 

"'Course I'm sure." 

Kieran took the flower gently, a bolt of electricity shooting up his arm when their hands touched briefly. Kieran wanted to stay like that, their fingers brushed against each other with a feather-light touch. He wanted to gaze at Arthur's own blue-green eyes. He waited for the man to pull away first. He never did. 

Instead he leaned closer. 

Kieran didn't pull away, and his instincts told him to stay put, that this was good. Really good. 

Their lips brushed, much like their hands had, and Kieran was certain Arthur was going to pull away, spitting and cursing at the O'Driscoll who tried to kiss him. 

He didn't. 

Their lips touched. Kieran was vaguely aware of the had entangling in his hair, pulling him closer into the soft kiss. 

Kieran melted like butter under Arthur's touch, the hand on his head sending shivers down his spine and the lips against his own made his brain sputter and almost stop. 

Arthur tasted like cigarettes and whiskey, faint, gruff, wild. Like an outlaw, like a true cowboy of the west. His hand was calloused and tough against his scalp, fingers pulling at his locks, pulling Kieran closer and closer until they physically couldn't be any closer. 

The could only kiss until their lips were sore. 

Kieran slowly pushed Arthur down, the man succumbing to his wishes and laying flat on his back. Kieran straddled him, clasping his face with his hands and wondering how the hell he got himself into such a wonderful situation. 

It was unreal. He kept expecting the rest of the gang to pop out and laugh at him. He kept expecting Arthur to shove him off, to spit spit at him, call him queer, disgusting. It never happened. 

It looked like it was never going to happen with the way Arthur was kissing him back, loving and strong and passionate. 

His broad hands came to rest on Kieran's thighs, squeezing as they continued to kiss, only pulling away when they needed to breath. Curse his lungs. 

He wanted to continue forever, to kiss until the sun went down, to feel what it was like to be loved again. 

But did Arthur really mean it?

"You really mean this?" Kieran asked quietly, resting his forehead against Arthur's. 

Half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile on Arthur's face didn't tell Kieran anything. His hands were still on his legs, warm and heavy. 

"'Course I mean it." He said, squeezing Kieran's thighs, "I don't go 'round kissin' other men for the sake of a laugh." 

Kieran relaxed a lot at those words. He kissed Arthur again, Arthur eager to comply, lips moving together in an untold, unheard rhythm. 

They stayed there until after dark, when the crickets came out and the owls hooted to each other and the coyotes sang under the blanket of stars. That's when they got up and rode back to camp with slightly swollen lips and lighter hearts full of love and warmth. 

They parted ways when they entered camp, both high on love and the excitement of it all. Of being loved and appreciated and the thrill of what it was like to love again. 

Arthur said they didn't see any animals worth killing, and everyone bought it, though Tilly pointed out his flushed face. He blamed it on the long gone hot sun. She bought it. 

He next day, Arthur asked Kieran to go fishing, and they did the exact same thing. 

It felt nice to beloved, Kieran concluded when they came back, hickeys staining both their necks purple, and fish in hand. 

It felt nice. 


End file.
